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Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 06-23-2008
Prologue
Quote:They say, one man is enough to change the future.
However, they did not say how the **** hes supposed to accomplish that.
The Art of war. What is it? How is it defined? Simple. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence, it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected. The Art of War is governed by five constant factors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when seeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field. These are The Moral Law, Heaven, Earth, The Commander, Method and finally, Discipline.
The Moral Law causes the people to be in complete accord with their ruler, so that they will follow him regardless of their lives, undismayed by any danger. Heaven signifies night and day, cold and heat, times and seasons. Earth comprises distances, great and small; danger and security; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of life and death. The Commander stands for the virtues of wisdom, sincerely, benevolence, courage and strictness. By method and discipline are to be understood the marshaling of the army in its proper subdivisions, the graduations of rank among the officers, the maintenance of roads by which supplies may reach the army, and the control of military expenditure. These five heads should be familiar to every general: he who knows them will be victorious; he who knows them not will fail.
Which of the two sovereigns is imbued with the Moral law?
Which of the two generals has most ability?
With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and Earth?
On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?
Which army is stronger?
On which side are officers and men more highly trained?
In which army is there the greater constancy both in reward and punishment?
By means of these seven considerations we can forecast victory or defeat. The general that hearkens to my counsel and acts upon it, will conquer: let such a one be retained in command! The general that hearkens not to my counsel nor acts upon it, will suffer defeat:--let such a one be dismissed! While heading the profit of my counsel, avail yourself also of any helpful circumstances over and beyond the ordinary rules. According as circumstances are favorable, one should modify one's plans.
All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him. If he is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant. If he is taking his ease, give him no rest. If his forces are united, separate them. Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.
These military devices, leading to victory, must not be divulged beforehand. Now the general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It is by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to win or lose...
"These are the principles of my life. Thanks to the Organization, potential is no such word in my dictionary any longer. Its a reality. I live the life so many dream of. Am I thankful for it? Hardly. And it hardly stops me doing what I do best- kill. "
"The organizations best, Ive been doing high profile hits all over Sirius. Im hated all the way, yet people succumb to the desire the desire of using the best tool for their task, which usually involves someones death."
"I used to be a normal man once, a loving family, a good income, a good job, lovely friends, but that god-damned Consequence took it all from me. I should have expected it, really but I didnt. I was too for lack of a better word vain. Vanityconsidered as one of the Old Worlds Deadly Sins, and I had it in abundance. Truly ironic, that it was vanity that kept me from becoming what I am now"
![[Image: proserpinecopy.png]](http://i84.photobucket.com/albums/k13/gurjiv/cat%20spamzor/proserpinecopy.png)
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 06-26-2008
Origin
Starting off in the slums of Liberty, my life was nothing but full of misery. Fights with other children was nothing different than sleeping hungry most nights. Stealing and robbing this is what I had to do to survive. The yield of robberies and such was so good, the greed kept on building, until it was insatiable by small time profits. Greed another one of those Deadly Sins of the Old World. No wonder my life was hell.
That night changed everything though. Now that I think about it, I dont even know what the hell happened. The only thing I remember was I was walking back to my corner of the alley, when I was attacked by a bunch of kids. Must have been thinking of taking revenge for the past fools.
The next thing I remember? A flash of light, me being held at gunpoint, wrists cuffed, and pushed into the back of a car, blind folded no, wait. I wasnt blind folded, I had taken so many hits to the face, my eyes were swollen, my nose was bleeding, I had a cut across my left cheek, a broken arm, and I had deep wounds all across my chest. But I wasthe last man standing.Too bad those kids wont be waking up to see another day.
*laughs*
Anyway, where were we? Ah yes. I was being shoved into the back of a car violently, and the before I knew it, I was being locked up. Of course, I didnt know it till next day, when I was rudely awoken by ah one of my cell mates poor bastards, they were insecure on such a high level, they had to rely on dominance to feel good about themselves.
I thought that the streets of liberty were bad. Boy was I wrong. If they were bad, this prison was like the gateway to hell. At least they had a uniform, which covered the body. I was literally living in the same old dirty, rags for weeks. Guess I dont have to complain about everything.
I dressed up, and sat on my corner, mind completely blank, until it was time
![[Image: prosjailcopy-2.png]](http://i84.photobucket.com/albums/k13/gurjiv/cat%20spamzor/prosjailcopy-2.png)
And thus, under a fake name, I was processed into the Sugarland Federal Prison, in the Texas system. If there was anything worse that this hell-hole, if that was even possible, thank god I wasnt there. Its funny, even though we sin everyday, we turn to god for moral support. As if hes got this magic wand, which he waves and makes all our pain, our grief just vanish away
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 08-04-2008
Killer Instinct
It had been nearly a month since I had been locked up. There has not been a single day ive not gotten into a fight, but today was different. I was about to witness a death by my hands for the first time inside the prison.
Just like every other day, waking up in the morning and heading into the shower area, I did the same today as well. It just so happened that I ran out of toothpaste, and I asked one of the other guy’s who I had befriended, so to speak, for his tube. It was just then that the situation erupted. Apparently, I had managed to really piss off one of the cell mates, because I chose to ignore his comments and threats. Yes, I know. What in the name of all that is holy is that all about? Hes angry at me because I chose to ignore him?
*laughs*
Anyway, when I moved into the shower area, and had my eyes shut, with the water pouring over my face, he moved towards me. He had a hidden shaving blade hidden in the palm of his hand, for a smooth, silent kill I suppose. Idiot. Hand to hand combat is where I excel at.
I dunno what happened, but somehow, I felt that there was someone who was about to attack me, and that was enough for me to duck rapidly, turn round on my heels, and land a punch on the man’s chest with enough force to crack a hole in a reinforced door. Im guessing it hurt quite a bit, since he let out a silent sigh of pain, put on an expression of pure anguish on his face, eyes constricted, almost comically looking like he suffered from a bad case of constipation.
His body flew backwards, his arms flailing about in the air uselessly, the blade dropped from his hand onto the floor. He landed quite a distance away from me, one hand on his chest, while he tried to get up using his other hand. It gave me enough time to duck and swoop the blade off the floor, take it out of it’s sheath, and throw it with a similar amount of precision as an atomic clock towards the guy’s neck. The force of the throw was so intense, that only a tiny amount of it could be visible. The rest of it had been embedded into his neck, piercing his jugular vein.
I knew if the blade was removed, the guy would bleed to death faster than a cardamine addicted whore would reach a point of a fake climax, and to an extent, I was silently hoping one of the men in the shower-room would do it for me. But I guess not all dreams are meant to be fulfilled. No matter. He’d bleed to death anyway, but much more painfully, and that thought gave me enough satisfaction, to not care about the consequences of my actions. An assassin’s reflex actions are extremely lethal, it seems.
*laughs out loud*
It didn’t take the guards more than a minute to move in and knock me down to the floor, but one thing’s for sure. They didn’t seem to inclined to send in the meds to save the guy. After seeing the guard’s reaction, the thought “every man for himself” struck me in a way that even the joys of being a pimp wouldn’t satisfy.
The guards led me towards a section of the Prison, which I knew I hadn’t been to, and while I was trying to figure out what was going on, the noise level of the prison kept on falling lower and lower, like a dying echo. It wasn’t until there was only the sound of marching soldiers and the sole prisoner being dragged between them did I realise- I was being put into solitary confinement, “for the safety of others”.
I thought that solitary confinement would do me good, but it hadn’t even been 15 minutes since they had put me in my cell, that I began to hate it more than a drug abusing teenager hating his parents for trying to set him back on the right path once again...
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 08-20-2008
Flashback
![[Image: pros-rp-1185603.png]](http://thumbnails.imajr.com/pros-rp-1185603.png)
Woken violently by a smack to the head, i let out a slight grunt, before i jumped to my feet, my fighter instincts taking over almost instantly. It was nothing. I had merely banged my head on the wall while falling asleep. Daydreaming. Hm. I still haven't forgotten my arrest, but first i needed to make plans to break out of this hell hole...
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 09-11-2008
Breakout
What is the Definition of freedom? Mathematically, there are over 50 different definitions. According to morality, there is one- Freedom is a very broad concept that has been given numerous different interpretations by different philosophies and schools of thought, one of which state that it is the state of being free, of not being imprisoned or enslaved. It is the state of being free, unconstrained; the lack of a specific constraint, or of constraints in general.
One good thing about prisons is, you have all the time in the world to think about the most insignificant things, and have enough fights to your hearts content. But I didnt have even that.
I had two options. 14 years solitary confinement, or 28 years normal. Obviously, I took the solitary. Since many didnt choose solitary, at least that part of the prison was clean. I was put in the center cell, beside 2 others who had been in that prison for god knows how long. One was an expert at chess, the other a master conman. Very dangerous combination, chess and cons.
Once every week, the library-on-wheels, pushed by a pair of murderous twins brought a wide range of books to us. On the ba- Oh wait. This wasnt part of this jail sentence.
*laughs*
My mistake. I mis-matched the two different confinements. This time, it was just me. There I was, alone in my cell, with nothing but a frikin pencil and no paper to doodle on. The guards might as well have taken the pencil and shoved it up where the sun dont shine, since it was a fat load use to me without paper. Being in solitary confinement, you discover ways to use your surroundings to your advantage. In this case, I used the walls as my canvas.
There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the ****ty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We all share an addiction- we're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-****in' rah. Oh, look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.
Even though I knew this, it didnt stop me craving for attention. The praises of the guard upon seeing my work, used to spur me into a wild state of excitement. Too bad for the dinner-guy who brought my meal today. Sometimes, people are better off staying silent.
One comment, about how I was dirtying the prison with my graphite-created filth- enough to drive me insane. Killing was what I did, and what I am still good at. That same pencil that I used to create the masterpiece- as described by the guard-, was used to take the life of yet another worthless fool.
It took less than a second to kill the man, but why did it feel like an eternity had passed? Did I, for the first time in my life, Flinch? Did I have second thoughts? Whatever it was, it wasnt strong enough to stop me embedding that pencil deep inside the other persons Jugular vein, bursting it, and spewing blood periodically, to the beat of his heart, like a fountain. He died a very painful death. Damn. This means my sentence gets extended further.
*laughs maniacally*
As the Guards rush in, tasers fully charged, and night-sticks at the ready, the last thing I remember seeing is pool of blood surrounding the pale-faced body of the dead guy on the floor, with a look of pure anguish on his face. Then, I was knocked out cold
_________________________________________________________________
I opened my eyes, and moved to get up, but as soon as I lifted my head off the pillow, a searing pain went through my head and body, almost as if someone shoved a 20 inch steel rod inside me. Talk about getting raped while you were asleep. I lay back, and turned my head to check the time and date. It was still the same time- 8 pm, but two days had passed since the killing. I had been knocked out cold for so long.
All of a sudden, I heard a sound, that slowly grew from a whisper to a fully audible, blaring klaxon, and thats when I realized something was very wrong. It took me a while to get used to my surroundings again, but from what it seemed, the Prison station was under attack. There was a fully kitted out special forces squadron outside my cell, and, I'm guessing even more guards further down the hallway. They were apparently guarding me from something- or someone.
Being able to fully hear and look, but not being able to move as fast, I slowly made my way to the door to look out of the tiny window to see what was going on. Every step felt like my legs would break off and fall away any time. Agony was the word of the day for me. Even whores dont feel the type of pain I was going through. I turned around and started moving toward the bed again, when all of a sudden, I heard guns blazing, guards shouting, dead bodies dropping to the floor, and a new type of gun- I couldnt identify it.
Being curious has always gotten the better of me many times before, just like today. I limped towards the door window to get a better view, when I saw 3 guards bodies flying across the hall, screams filling the area, and blue bolts of concentrated firepower passing through the hallway, when all of a sudden, everything stopped. No more guns being fired, no more footsteps. Only the Klaxon blaring now, when all of a sudden
*BOOM*
What happened next, I never in my whole life anticipated. The small area outside my door had been hit directly with an RPG of some sort, blowing the door off its hinges, and flying inwards, with me slapped against it, into the wall. Great. First I get hammered by the guards, now even non living things decide to kick my arse.
While trying to free myself I managed to see through the badly smashed door window 6 heavily armored and armed soldiers march into the room, with another man, with a mask on over his face behind them. He motioned to the others to lift my body. While the soldiers lifted my body, this person took out an object from his belt, and fired the light all over my face, before he ordered the soldiers to carry me off. Even for a well trained soldier-turned mercenary, there was a limit to what my body could take, and with that, I fell unconscious between the soldiers carrying me
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 09-11-2008
CNS News Feed
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Today has been a very eventful day for the Liberty navy and the LSF agents working in the Texas system. The Prison Station Sugarland has been hit by a very large, fast moving, yet un-identifiable force of pirates, and a High Security Prisoner has been assassinated within his Solitary Chamber.
The raid was conducted at 2000 Hours today, when the change of shifts occurs, like everyday. It seems to be a well planned Surgical strike, most probably a Revenge kill associated with the Dons of the outcast families. The Prisoner, also known as Bastian Gaspare, was found with a broken neck, multiple plasma shots to his chest, and a sword plunged through his heart. Mr. Gaspare was also missing a left arm, evidentally cut off to put him in maximum pain before he died a slow and violent death.
The Chief of Police was not availiable for comment, and neither were any LSF agents, or any Liberty Naval official. But, we do have a Civilian witness, who says he saw it happen.
"Sir, can you please relive what you saw earlier today for the rest of Liberty to know!"
"Yes i can. i was in my blazer, flyin' 'round Texas, when i decided ta' head to the Hudson system, when all of a sudd'n i see a big flash 'o light, comin' from where Sugarland would be. Obviously, me being curious, as well as scared, i moved closer to see wha' was goin' on, and all i saw is dis' HUGE thing, mos' probably a ship, appearin' outta thin air! Anyway, it launched 10 fighters from its bay or summi', and continually bombarded the crap outta' dat Prison station until da' Dockin' platform crumbled, and gave way. Needless to say, dem fighters went in, clearing off all da people, and guards i guess. i was sittin' there, quietly, when all of a sudden, i saw a torpedo speedin' toward me. Dat' was 'nuff for me, and ah' Legged it, to save me life!"
"Thank you sir, you have been very helpful! This is Wendy Jones, CNS, Live from Houston, Texas System"
Officially, nothing is being said, but unofficially, we have evidence that Bastian Gaspare has been assassinated, during what we think is a planned out revenge killing. And now, we move onto our other news...
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Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 09-14-2008
Unforeseen Consequences
When I regained my consciousness, i realized I was strapped into a bed, with wires leading into my arms and chest. I had no idea where I was, what was going on, but one thing I knew is that, id rather be that 10 year old kid being bullied than be here. This pain was searing, and even for me, it was too much to bear. It was only a matter of time my will breaks and I give in to this intricate torture.
I wasn’t wrong. Within minutes, my body seemed to give up resistance, and I screamed louder than a 12 year old Kusarian boy when he finds out he’s getting a dictionary for his birthday, instead of more console games. It was as if someone was peeling the skin from my body off slowly, and then pouring boiling hot oil over the freshly exposed bleeding skin. Even over all the screaming, I heard whispers in the background. Apparently, I was “a very stubborn bastard”.
*laughs*
Even after the intricate torture they had setup for me, a part of me found it very funny that these people thought of me as a stubborn bastard. What can I say, the Organization trained me well.
As an adrenaline rush came over me, the ‘flight or fight’ response as it’s otherwise known, I gathered my will together in a final effort to break my shackles away and get out of that seat. After a minute of excessive straining, the shackles gave way under all the pressure I was applying, and I broke free. To my surprise, I felt a sharp pain in both of my arms, and I gave a yell.
I didn’t realize that the shackles were surrounded by another ‘glove’, which had spikes lining the inner area. By breaking the shackles, the tiny spikes pierced into my biceps, and blood trickled down my arms and onto the floor. This was too much for even me, and I gave up trying to escape, and I heard a chuckle, and another whisper.
“In the end, they all break”
With that, a dark figure comes into view. The person was evidently wearing amour, and held an aura of dominance around him. I strained to lift my head, so that I could see who he was, when all of a sudden, the shackles were released, and my body fell to the floor. The person offered a hand to lift me off the ground, which I accepted. The person took off the mask, stepped into the light, and started to speak…
Proserpine: Chronicles - Virus - 09-14-2008
"Do you know why you're here?... I didn't think so. We know you are not Bastian Gaspare. We have also taken the 'liberty' of faking your death. I do apologize for what we have done here, but we had to test you. Congratulations, you passed."
The voice was female, kind, but in a sadistic way. She sat down across from him and smiled. "I am a Slayer. You can call me Dark Blossom. Too messed up to understand, huh? Here, let me explain what I mean in terms you can... Understand in your condition. We're giving you an option, since you are as of this point being recruited into our organization. You can join us... The Phantom Empire or we can continue until your death."
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 11-23-2008
Choices
I listened intently what she had to say. For once, I kept my ignorance at bay, and listened to the offer with complete attention. After all, my life depended upon it. Death isn’t what I fear- I fear the consequence if I denied this choice. The guilt- ridden thoughts of denying myself the right to join the most notorious, evil, sadistic empire that struck fear into the hardiest men.
These… phantoms had already taken the liberty to proclaim me dead to the world, and were offering me my life, in exchange for my services to their Empire. They had executed the fastest Breakout in history, to free me- 20 minutes and every living soul on the station dead. Something even the Organization could not manage. Maybe it was time to move on. Or was this all part of a Greater plan Destiny had in store for me?
Even with my arms were bleeding profusely, I lifted my body off the ground, and stood up tall, and looked Dark Blossom, eye to eye, and after a moment’s hesitation, extended my hand to shake hers. Bringing my own face near hers, I whispered softly into her ear.
“Thanks for breaking me out, but my allegiances lie elsewhere.
Dropping to my knees onto the floor, blood slowly trickling down my arms and onto the floor, my body keeled over sideways and i fell over, unconscious. It felt like an era passed, and all the while i was passing out, the thought that i may have made one of the most stupid choices of my life kept flashing before me... I denied myself from being part of the dread Phantom Empire.
Proserpine: Chronicles - frozen - 01-05-2009
A New Perspective- I
Badlands, New York system, Liberty...
817 A.S.
The Badlands-Bane of the Liberty Navy, Boon to Libertys pirates, Home to the Liberty Rogues. Many avoided the place, dodging it like an angry bullet. Those that dared to venture into the Badlands seldom returned- The ones that did- return were not the same anymore. For starters, the badlands turned the best scanner equipment currently on sale in the Sirius Sector null and void- disturbances in the nebula also caused short circuiting of equipment, and temporary blackouts. Not to mention the fact that vision was highly obscured and the dangers of collisions with big rocks, asteroids, or even other ships was highly imminent.
Roger that, you are clear to undock, Horizon. Crisp as freshly laundered pair of pants, the voice cut through the stillness of the void over the Local communication channel of Buffalo Base.
Affirmative, Buffalo. Proceeding with undocking maneuvers... The reply came from a ship wrapped in the shroud of darkness of the badlands, seemingly backing up away from Buffalo Base slowly.
The WS-X1.Event Horizon had begun preparations to undock from the Liberty Rogues Buffalo Base. The newly constructed Outcast Destroyer was the first of its kind- with extensive reworking on both the ships external and internal features, it sported the best armor plating on sale in Sirius, and an equally impressive capital class armor upgrade acquired from Palermo. However, it didnt end there- past dealings with the Lane Hackers, and endless haggling enabled the Outcast Guard to get their hands on one of the fabled Spyglass Scanner Systems Array, which was installed aboard the Event Horizon for field testing. The fuel tanks were re-enforced with extra plating to prevent any stray shot or ordnance from hitting, and rupturing the fuel supply.
Packing an engine capable of nuclear fission on a much larger scale, the Event Horizons engines were designed to provide huge quantities of power for prolonged travel duration. That, coupled with a state-of-the-art Cheetah Thruster- which sported the most efficient ;power drain as compared to all the other thrusters out in the market- the Event Horizon was sufficiently equipped remain mobile in nearly any condition. And finally, with enough firepower to make President Powell's birthday bash look like a sweet 16, the Event Horizon was not a vessel to be toyed with.
The Comm. Officer aboard the Event Horizon was in constant communication with Buffalo Base to maintain correct undocking protocol- Undocking procedures completed, setting co-ordinates fo...
Well well... What have we here? Pardon me for such a rude interruption, but I cannot try to hide my surprise since when does the Outcast Guard send one of their most -extensively- retrofitted destroyers to the Libertonian Home System? A raspy whisper was heard over Buffalos local Comm. Channel. There was a hint of curiosity and surprise hidden rather bluntly within that voice.
Identify yourself, lest you wish to be blasted out of the sky The Comm. officer aboard the Event Horizon stated.
Hah. Youre in the Badlands, mate Youre as likely to see me as you are to finding out whats on the menu in the finest restaurant on planet Manhattan, Outcast! My name isnt important to you, boy, however Im sure your Commanding Officer would be interested in my services? Put him on. The same raspy whisper was heard over the local Comm. Channel again.
Even with the advanced scanner array given by the Lane Hackers, the Event Horizon wasnt able to pick up the rogue on the scanners. Using the naked eye to locate the other ship inside the badlands was about as useful as trying to get a lady of the Golden Chrysanthemums to go to a Drug Rehabilitation Center.
Tired of searching yet? The same whisper was heard, followed by a cackle that could remotely be compared to a mongrel trying to laugh like a human. Bring your Commander on, and Im willing to come forth. Oh and I come in peace.
Completely flustered, the Comm. Officer hailed the unknown ship- Hold on Bringing the Commander online if he agrees
Before I begin, I would like to know your name. I have limited time, and am rather busy at the moment. A new sharp, commanding voice was heard over the local Comm. Channel- it was the commander of the Event Horizon.
But of course, commander. The names Shade. Pirate by profession, Word slickster being part of the trade, gets me out of some rather tight spots too whispering over the local Comm.; Shade sounded worse than a badly tuned flute. Ive said my part, as part of the deal, now its your turn to answer the questions, dont you think commander?
Hmm... Indeed it is. Instead of us barking away over Local Comm., why dont you bring yourself over to Bay 1, and come directly to the lounge? You seem rather interested in our activities, and we seek rather important information. Maybe we could be able to Help each other out to an extent, if you get my meaning barely suppressing a laugh, the commander offered Shade to come aboard the Event Horizon. We... well. I already know your motives, plans, and past Shade, courtesy of the Liberty governments lax security, a sultry outcast female spy, and a drunken LSF agent, just never came face to face with you... until now. Also, Bay 1 is clear for you to land, be careful though. The Badlands are rather treacherous, and landing may be a rather hard task.
Indeed, commander. Im cutting comm. chatter until Ive successfully docked. Something about that voice was rather unnerving, even for the commander- like the calm before the storm.
A few minutes later, a heavily built man was being escorted by armed guards to the lounge.
Morning commander. I see you still do not trust me enough, thus the armed guards to escort me. Chuckled Shade in a wheezy voice.
Well, suffice to say, we are here to track down an individual. You game? in an assertive tone, a man in the corner- the commander- started to speak. Unfortunately, I cannot expose my face to you, Shade, for reasons of my own, but thats no reason for me not to offer you comfort. Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink? We have the finest Maltese rum aboard, or if you favor Libertonian Ale, that.
Depends on the particulars of the... Mission. After all, while I do not mind hard errands, I do not take on errands that put my life at risk without a considerable prize at the end of it. Shade continued to speak, while taking a seat into one of the plush leather seats near a window. The elegant, yet long crystal glasses used to serve him the rum shade found rather pretty.
Of course, Senor. We are looking for an individual. He goes by the name: Proserpine. The last thing we know about this fellow was he was placed in a high security vault on Sugarland Prison Station, Texas System, and was supposedly killed in a raid. However, me, and the crew know that thats not the case. Misdirection, senor Shade, misdirection. What the eyes see, what the ears hear, the mind believes blindly.
Well, seems that you are mighty curious in finding this particular person. My services are yours; however I require something in return. Nothing in this world is free, after all, eh? letting out a faint laugh, shade looked into the eyes of the man hidden in the shadows and thought to himself
* Blue eyesatheletic build...charismatic smile truly a fitting commander.*
We figured as much. What are you looking for? a prompt reply, lined with a hint of desperation. The commander was rather anxious to find this Proserpine person.
Information regarding this... Proserpine, and your mission. Its rather blatantly obvious that youre not here just for one person. There has got to be something else, and Im rather curious.
Aha, Curiosity is a basic human trait indeed. Well, heres a deal, if you will. I give you 50% of the information now, and 50% information after- you give me the confirmed location of Proserpine. After all, you want information regarding a volatile subject, yet are offering nothing more than your word... for now.
You are an interesting person to negotiate with, Mr. Masquez. Pausing for a break to take a sip and to think, Shades mind ploughed through the situation at hand to try and find a hole he could use until Alright, I agree to those terms. Now, lets have that information, shall we?
*laughter*
Indeed, Senor Shade, Lets get to it, shall we?